From Anothers Eyes
by Golden Phoenix Feather
Summary: This story follows the same plot as the Tim Burton movie, but from the point of view of my character, Darcie Bedlowe. Love, hate, End Surprises.
1. Darcie's Escape

Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd or it's plot, I'm just not that brilliant. But I do own Darcie Bedlowe, so maybe I'm pretty cool. Or not... haha

* * *

I crept down the hallway, taking heed of creaky floor boards. I stopped at the door of my father's study, peeking in where the heavy wood door was left open only a crack.

"She is a fine girl," I heard my father say to another man, "a bit wild, but she can be broken of that, I assure you, Judge Turpin."

"She is a pretty young thing, isn't she?" I heard another man comment from somewhere beyond my sight. "And what did you say her name was, Mr. Bedlowe?"

"Darcie," my father answered.

I gasped, pulling away from the door and pressing my back to the wall. I stood only for a few moments before silently rushing to my rooms. I shut the door silently and began pacing my room, thinking back to what my personal maid had told me of my father's plans. At the time I had not believed them to be true, though now it all made sense. What other reason would he have to keep his 25 year old daughter at home, watched over as if she were a child?

"Well this ends now," I told myself, " I will not be sold off to Judge Turpin." My eyes scanned the room I had lived in my whole life, stopping at the old oak dresser. I strode over to it, opening the bottom drawer and pulling out my small purse. I looked inside, seeing a fair amount of money I had been saving. Satisfied, I shoved this down my cleavage and turned to my closet. I pulled out a black shawl and pulled it around my shoulders. Taking one more glance around I decided it best to keep everything in place.

I exited my room, looking down the hall opposite my father's study and, seeing no one, silently rushed down the darkened hallway. I was lucky enough to meet no one on my way to the kitchens. I had to wait a few moments before a maid left the kitchen before I could exit from the servants entrance.

After I was finally out I knew exactly where I was going to go and waste no time in hurrying off from the high end of London towards Fleet Street.


	2. Mr Sweeney Todd

Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd or it's plot, I'm just not that brilliant. But I do own Darcie Bedlowe, so maybe I'm pretty cool. Or not... haha

* * *

At the end of Fleet Street I stopped and observed my surroundings, noting that the sun was just starting to try to shine from beneath the cloud cover of London. A breeze of cold wind pushed me onward to the other end of the street where Mrs. Lovett's Meat Pie Shop stood. I entered quickly, the ring of the bell catching the attention of the shop owner, already hard at work making her pies.

"Oh my," Mrs. Lovett gasped, dropping her rolling pin and coming around the counter, "now what are you doin' here at this time of mornin' deary?" she asked in a motherly tone, coming toward me and setting me at the booth.

I looked at the woman whom every so often I would come and help clean the shop with, just to get away from my family, and began to explain about my fathers plans as she got me a glass of water. As I told my story she went back to chopping ingredients for her pies.

In the middle of my explanation Mrs. Lovett was startled by the entrance of someone.

"A customer!" she gasped, quickly leaving her work to pull me from my spot. "Wait! What's your rush? What's your hurry? You gave me such a fright I thought you was a ghost half a minute!" Mrs. Lovet sang as she ushered the man into the building and into the spot I had been extracted from. "Can't you sit? Sit you down. Sit! All I meant is that I haven't seen a customer for weeks. Did you come here for a pie, sir?" she asked in song, returning to her counter to get the customer a pie. "Do forgive me if my head's a little vague- What is that?" she asks herself mid-thought, grabbing up a bug and stomping on it. "But you'd think we had the plague from the way that people keep avoiding," she sang on, getting her thoughts back on track, only to find another bug in her flower and exterminating that one too. "Heaven knows I try, sir."

I took a moment to observe the man as Mrs. Lovett kept singing. His hair was black -save for the shock of white at his right temple- and completely unruly. A look of confusion is set upon a deathly pale face, and dark rings from lack of rest were surrounding his eyes. Eyes that were a dark -almost black- color look at Mrs. Lovett in pondering confusion as she drops a burnt meat pie in front of him, offering ale to go with it.

I go behind the counter to fetch the ale as the man pulls the plate toward him, a look of curious disgust now taking over his face as he pokes at the pie, picking it up and observing it.

Even as Mrs. Lovett sings of how her pies are the worst pies in London, the man dares to take a bite. His face then crumples in pure disgust as he turns his head to spit the fowl food to the floor.

"Is that just disgusting? You have to concede it. It's nothing but crusting," Mrs. Lovett asks in song as I slid the cup of ale toward the stranger, who looks as if he will vomit if he doesn't get something to wash the taste out. "There drink that, you'll need it. The worst pies in London."

I sit at the other side of the booth as Mrs. Lovett goes back to her counter and begins working with a piece of dough, singing on about the price of meat and Mrs. Mooney's habits of putting cats into her pies.

The stranger looks on at the shop owner and I could tell he thought her quite strange. He goes to speak, but Mrs. Lovett is paying no attention as she goes on singing and pounding at the dough.

"Have to hand it to her. What I calls enterprise, poppin' pussies into pies. Wouldn't do in my shop. Just the thought of it's enough to make you sick. And I'm tellin' you them pussycats is quick."

The mans expression changes once more as Mrs. Lovett sings about cats. He looks down at the meat pie with an expression that says he is so hoping he had not just eaten some kitty off the street. The knowledge I had of dear Mrs. Lovett's meat pies made me burst into soft giggles that I quickly hid behind a hand.

The stranger took time to process this new information before, almost hesitantly, reaching for his cup of ale and taking a drink. He forced down the drink, trying to force down the taste of Mrs. Lovett's pie with it.

Mrs. Lovett herself kept singing, seemingly not noticing the man's discomfort and disgust. "No denying times is hard, sir. Even harder than the worst pies in London. Only lard and nothing more. Is that just revolting, all greasy and gritty. It looks like it's molting, and tastes like..." The woman paused, seeming to rethink finishing her current sentence, and deciding to just move on, "well, pity, a woman alone, with limited wind, and the worst pies in London. Oh sir, times is hard. Times is hard"

Another bug falls to the end of its life by Mrs. Lovett's rolling pin before she finally looks up to the man, who is still trying to get the taste from his mouth with the ale I had given him.

I leaned over the table towards him, "trust me, it's going to take a lot more than ale to wash that taste out," I confided.

"Come with me. We'll get you a nice tumbler of gin," Mrs. Lovett offers, walking from her shop into her living area, the man standing to follow and me trailing after.

As we entered Mrs. Lovett's sitting room, the dark haired stranger stops as we passed the stairs that lead to where Lucy Barker had once lived.

"Isn't this homey now?" Mrs. Lovett spoke, prompting the man to go onward into the darkened room. "The cheery wallpaper was a real bargain, too. It was only partly singed when the chapel burned down."

I sat in the chair back in the corner as Mrs. Lovett offered the man his gin and told him to sit down, which he did while finally speaking. "You've a room over the shop here?" he questioned. His voice was deep and he spoke in a seemingly forced pleasant tone. "If times are so hard, why don't you rent it out?"

"What, up there? No, I won't go near it," I hear Mrs. Lovett explain. Then, as an afterthought; "People think it's haunted."

"Haunted?" the stranger asks, looking to the woman with a skeptical look.

"Yeah," Mrs. Lovett went on, "and who's to say they're wrong?" she asked, making her way to the seat next to the man and beginning to explain the story. "You see, years ago, something happened up there. Something not very nice." The pale woman began to sing as she sat in the chair, looking intently at the man. "There was a barber and his wife. And he was beautiful. A proper artist with a knife. But they transported him for life. And he was beautiful. Barker, his name was. Benjamin Barker."

"What was his crime?" the man asked in an inquisitive, impassive way.

"Foolishness. He had this wife, you see. Pretty little thing, silly little nit, had her chance for the moon on a string. Poor thing. Poor thing. There was this judge, you see, wanted her like mad. Everyday he'd send her a flower. But did she come down from her tower? Sat up there and sobbed by the hour. Poor fool. Ah, but there was worse yet to come, poor thing. Well, Beadle calls for her all polite. Poor thing. Poor thing. The judge, he tells her is all contrite, he blames himself for her dreadful plight. She must come straight to his house tonight. Poor thing. Poor thing. Of course when she gets there, poor thing, poor thing, they're having this ball on in masks. There's no one she knows there, poor dear, poor thing, she wanders tormented and drinks, poor thing. The judge has repented, she thinks, poor thing. 'Oh where is Judge Turpin?' she asks. He was there alright, only not so contrite. She wasn't no match for such craft, you see, and everyone thought it so droll. They figured she had to be daft, you see, so all of them stood there and laughed, you see. Poor soul. Poor thing..."

The expressionless man suddenly stood up with a scream of anger, pointing an accusing finger to Mrs. Lovett. The suddenness of his anger made me jump up in fright and I stood against the wall as he asked in a deathly quiet tone, "would no one have mercy on her?"

"So it is you," Mrs. Lovett breathed out in a whisper, "Benjamin Barker?"

The man ignored the statement. "Where is Lucy? Where is my wife?"

"She poisoned herself. Arsenic, from the apothecary around the corner. Tried to stop her, but she wouldn't listen to me. And he's got your daughter."

I wondered if maybe Mrs. Lovett could have been a bit less blunt about it as the man's face went from despair to complete loathing as he questioned, "he? Judge Turpin?"

"Adopted her," Mrs. Lovett explained, "like his own."

"Fifteen years," the man said in a cold voice as he slipped out of his leather jackett, "I've sweated in hell on a false charge. Fifteen years dreaming I might come home to a wife and child."

"Well, I can't say the years have been particularly kind to you, Mr. Barker," Mrs. Lovett said in a calm, sympathetic voice.

"No," the Barker man said angrily, "not Barker. That man is dead. It's Todd now, Sweeney Todd. And he will have his revenge."

I shuddered as this Sweeney Todd man said those words.

There was silence for a while as Mr. Todd glared cooly at Mrs. Lovett. Finally the woman moved, as if she suddenly remembered something quite important. "Would you like to see the room, Mr. Todd? Come on deary. You too Darcie luv."

* * *

And here is the next chapterr.

I bet you already know what's next. lol.


	3. Friends

Disclaimer: I don't own Sweeney Todd or it's plot, I'm just not that brilliant. But I do own Darcie Bedlowe, so maybe I'm pretty cool. Or not... haha

* * *

I once again found myself trailing behind Mr. Todd. Mrs. Lovett led us out the side door of the shop to the old stairs at the side of the building. Mrs. Lovett entered the room, but Mr. Todd hesitated at the entrance.

"Come in," Mrs. Lovett prompted softly, "nothing to be afraid of, luv."

I touched my hand to his shoulder and gave an encouraging smile as he looked back at me. "Go on in," I repeated Mrs. Lovett's words.

Mr. Todd finally stepped into the room, and I stepped in behind him. The room was covered in a thick layer of dust. The wallpaper, singed from the fire some time back, had once been a shade of yellow, but now was faded down to the color of old book pages. A broken mirror sat in the far corner, and a old baby's crib covered with a blanket also stood there.

I lingered at the doorway as Mr. Todd made his way slowly to the crib and lifted the corner of the blanket.

Mrs. Lovett kneeled at a spot under the large window and tapped at a floor board. As she pulled the board up and took out what was under it, Mr. Todd's attention was drawn to her.

A box was unwrapped and Mrs. Lovett handed it to Mr. Todd. Curious as to what was in the box, I moved to stand behind the dark haired man's kneeling form.

"When they came for the girl, I hid 'em," Mrs. Lovett explained. "Could've sold 'em, but I didn't."

Mr. Todd opened the box hesitantly to reveal a set of seven silver straight razors.

"Those handles are cased silver, aren't they?" I asked quietly.

"Silver. Yes," Mr. Todd answered as he ran his fingers gently over the razors. He pulled one from it's spot and held it to the light as he gingerly set the box with the other six down. He began to sing as he observed the silver razor in his hand. "These are my friends. See how they glisten. See this one shine, how he smiles in the light. My friend, my faithful friend."

I was entranced by the beautifully designed silver and Mr. Todd's smooth voice. Unaware, I stepped closer to the man as he stood and continued to sing, "speak to me friend. Whisper, I'll listen. I know, I know you've been locked out of sight all these years, like me my friend." Mrs. Lovett and I were left by the window as Mr. Todd crossed the room, still singing, "Well I've come home to find you waiting. Home, and we're together! And we'll do wonders, won't we?"

I was so entranced by Mr. Todd that I did not notice Mrs. Lovett moving until she was at his shoulder. Mr. Todd kept singing as Mrs. Lovett came behind him and began a song of her own. Mr. Todd was so hypnotized by his razors he seemed not to notice Mrs. Lovett as she admitted her long time feelings for him. He moved swiftly back to his other razors and put one of the two in his hands away as Mrs. Lovett told him he could move in here.

Mr. Todd still payed no attention, more interested in singing to his razors. "Friends, you shall drip rubies, you'll soon drip precious rubies," Mr. Todd ended. He suddenly noticed the woman over his shoulder, invading his space, and turned his head to her. "Leave me," he requested.

Mrs. Lovett exited, but I stayed where I was near the window. Mr. Todd turned his attention back to his razor and slowly stood from where he was kneeling, holding the razor out to catch the light streaming in from the window. "At last, my arm is complete again," he declared.

I observed the man as sunlight flowed over his pale skin and glinted off the sharp blade of his razor. He was truly a beautiful man, as Mrs. Lovett had described in her sitting room. As I looked closer, his face was twisted into a look of spite and his eyes had an angry glow to them, filled with promises of revenge. A shiver ran down my spine and I decided it was be time to take my leave. I quietly crept past the dark haired man, hoping to not be noticed.

"I thought I said leave me!" Mr. todd yelled angrily as he did notice me.

I stopped in my place and turned to the man once more, his focus now on me. I knew I should probably just turn and leave, but a question was itching the back of my mind, and I asked it without thinking. "What do you plan to do now?" I asked.

To my surprise Mr. Todd did not scream at me, but looked at me with a smirk. "I plan to kill Judge Turpin."

I should have been frightened at that moment, but I wasn't. I thought back to all the trouble and pain he had caused people, including my family, and the idea didn't seem so bad. "Well, you will need to draw his attention to you first," I commented.

Mr. Todd gave a slight questioning look.

"Well you didn't plan to go to his doorstep and kill him there, did you?" I questioned.

"I had no plan," Mr. Todd said in an emotionless voice as he turned from me to pick up his box of friends.

I could tell he had hoped to get rid of my with his murderous answer to my initial question, but now he was interested, so I kept going. "You can be a barber now," I said. "You can open a shop, and once people have heard of your skills, Judge Turpin is sure to come. He always wants the best. Well, that and what he can't have..."

Mr. Todd turned to me, his face a mask void of expression. "What is your name girl?"

"Darcie Bedlowe," I replied.

"Well, Mrs. Bedlowe-"

"Miss. I am not married," I interrupted.

With a glare, Mr. Todd continued on. "Fine, Miss Bedlowe, who do you presume is going to come to a barber who's shop is over those horrid pies Mrs. Lovett makes?" he asked with a sneer.

"Well, Mr. Todd," I mocked, angry with the man's condescending tone, "if you are as good a barber as Mrs. Lovett claims you are, then you should have no trouble beating a egotistical pedlar, who claims he is the best barber in London, in a contest."

I had caught Mr. Todd's attention, though he was quick to hide it.

"Signor Pirelli," I informed the seemingly impassive man. "He's down at the market tomorrow. I'll tell Mrs. Lovett you fancy an outing." With that, I swept the rest of the way to the door, turning to give a deep mocking curtsy before pulling the door closed and making my way down to the pie shop.

Mrs. Lovett was busy finishing her pies, but looked up when I entered the shop. "What took ya so long up there deary?" she asked as she pushed some hair off her forehead.

"Mr. Todd and I were just having a conversation about Signor Pirelli. Mr. Todd would like to go to the market to see him," I said, nonchalantly as i picked up a towel to clean off the tables with.

"Oh, well okay then," Mrs. Lovett said, going back to work with her rolling pin.

* * *

And yay! There was even more Darcie in it. woot. hehe. The next part is my favorite scene in the movie!! lol. Pirelli's Miracle Elixir is the next part of the story yay! hehe.

Thanks to those of you reading and replying and the such, you're all wonderful.


	4. St Dunstan's Market

Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Sweeney Todd characters, the plot line, or any of that, only Darcie. :)

* * *

The walk to St. Dunstan's Market would have been silent, if not for Mrs. Lovett's constant chatter. I must admit though, I was happy for hear bubbly speaking instead of the cold silence Mr. Todd kept.

I parted from the two, promising to meet with them before Pirelli's show started. I went off to the dress shop to buy new dresses since I didn't bring any with me from home. Many of the dresses bought for me from my parents were light cheery colors, and I decided it time for a change. I chose a few dark dresses of blue, red and black then let the woman take my measurements so she could tailor them to my size.

I quickly make my way to Pirelli's cart to see the show had already started. A boy stood upon the stage sining of how "Pirelli's Miracle Elixir" had grown him his long blonde locks.

As I pushed my way towards my companions, an atrocious smell met my nose. This gave me an idea. "Pardon me, sir, what's that awful stench?" I sang loudly to Mr. Todd.

"Are we standing near an open trench?" Mr. Todd sang back as Mrs. Lovett turned to the man next to her inquiring of the stench also.

The boy on stage sang louder, trying to take the attention from as and our loud questing.

A bottle of the elixir was passed to Mr. Todd who promptly uncorked the bottle and sniffed at the yellow liquid inside. His face scrunched up in disgust as he quickly pulled back to observe the bottle.

"What is this?" Mr. Todd questioned loudly, Mrs. Lovett echoing his inquiry as she took the bottle. "Smells like piss," Mr. Todd went on, motivating Mrs. Lovett to take a sniff.

"Smells like... eww!" Mrs. Lovett sang back, quickly handing the bottle off to me.

"Looks like piss," I observed as Mrs. Lovett advised the man next to her not to touch it.

"This is piss, piss with ink," Mr. Todd declared loudly.

The blonde boy's voice grew louder as he tried to hold the audiences attention. "Let Pirelli's activate your roots, sir!"

"Keep it off your boots, sir, eats right through," I sang out, handing the bottle to the man near Mrs. Lovett.

"Yes, Pirelli's, use a bottle of it. Ladies seem to love it."

"Flies do too," Mrs. Lovett commented.

The red curtains of the cart were flung back and out came a tall man wearing an over-the-top blue outfit and cape of red and gold, a tall top hat situated over dark hair. "I am Adolfo Pirelli, the king of the barbers, the barber of kings. E buon giorno, good day! I blow you a kiss!" The man sang out, doing just that and bringing a gloved hand to his mouth to blow the crowd a kiss before angrily beginning to sing again. "And I, the so famous Pirelli, I wish-a to know-a who has-a the nerve-a to say my elixir is piss. Who says this?"

Mr. Todd, who had been looking at Pirelli with a look of sickened disbelief, was suddenly looking down, trying to be inconspicuous, as were Mrs. Lovett and I.

"We do," i declared suddenly. "He does," I restated, lightly shoving Mr. Todd forward. "Mr. Sweeney Todd of Fleet Street."

Mr. Todd gave me an unreadable look before beginning to make his way through the crowd. "I have opened a bottle of Pirelli's Elixir and say to you that it is nothing but an arrant fraud, concocted from piss and ink," Mr. Todd stated his case. Signor Pirelli's face turned cold as Mr. todd went on, "further, Signor, I have serviced no kings, yet I wager that I can shave a cheek with ten times more dexterity than any street mountebank. Do you see these razors?" He asked, presenting the shiny silver to the crowd, "I lay them against five pounds you are no match, sir. Either accept my challenge, or reveal yourself as a sham."

Signor Pirelli's face went from cold to a mocking and greedy smile as he observed the razors. "You hear this foolish man?" Pirelli asked the crowd. "Now, please, you will see how he will-a regret-a his-a folly." The fraud whipped off his cape in an embarrassingly over-dramatic style, flinging it to the side before calling his young slave boy.

"Who's for a free shave?" Mr. Todd asked the crowd with a smirk.

Many hands went up as the two competing men got ready for the show. Mr. Todd shrugged off his leather coat and handed it to me with another of his smirks. I dipped into another mocking curtsy, though this time my smile was warm. The barbers eyes showed amusement before he turned back to the stage. Two men entered Pirelli's stage and the two barbers began getting into position.

"Will Beadle Bamford be the judge?" Mr. Todd turned to ask.

The Beadle, who was at the other side of the crowd, replied, "glad, as always, to oblige my friends and neighbors."

I blanched, not knowing the Beadle was in the market. As the greasy man made his way to the stage, I made a quick decision and threw on the leather coat in my arms and popped the collar to cover some of my face.

Mrs. Lovett, realizing my shiftiness, stepped in front of me slightly. "It'll be alright, deary," she muttered.

"Ready?" Beadle Bamford asked after the men up for their shaves had been covered, Pirelli's with a bright Italian flag and Mr. Todd's with a plain white sheet.

The two men answered affirmative and the Beadle set the rules. "The fastest, smoothest shave is the winner!" He then blew his whistle.

Mr. Todd began slowly as Pirelli began quickly sharpening his razor, hitting the poor boys knuckles as he held the sharpening belt for the egotistical man. Mrs. Lovett and I both flinched each time the sharp razor came into contact with the boys raw hands, then let out a breath as Pirelli finished his sharpening quickly.

As Pirelli began to sing a song I whispered to Mrs. Lovett, "is Mr. Todd really as good as you claim?"

"Oh yes," the woman answered instantly.

"He has been gone a long time..." I stated.

"He will win," Mrs. Lovett snipped.

I returned my attention back to the stage as the boy unraveled a drawing claimed to by signed by the Pope. Everyone laughed, and Pirelli then started to shave. "To shave-a the face, to cut-a the hair, requires the grace, requires the flair," the man sang.

Mr. Todd was making sure his razor was quite sharp, and I saw his stare move to the Beadle. I knew his thoughts were more on killing the fat man than shaving a face.

Pirelli was halfway through, shaving in short accented swipes. Pirelli got even more bold as he looked over to find Mr. Todd had not even put creme on his man's face.

Signor Pirelli hit a high note in his song and, to show off his talents in singing, held the note. This was when Mr. Todd finally began to shave. In eight long, smooth strokes, the pale man was finished as Pirelli let his note go.

"The winner," Beadle Bamford declared, "is Todd!"

Pirelli gave a fake smile as he made his way toward Mr. Todd. He gave a bow to the stony faced man who had defeated him easily. "Sir, I bow to a skill far greater than my own."

Without even looking at the exhibitionist, Mr. Todd held out his hand and requested his five pound with the gesture of his slender finger. The money was shoved into pale hands angrily as Pirelli tried to play off the embarrassment.

Pirelli beckoned the boy then shoved him roughly into the caravan yelling.

"Suppose it's just me gentle heart, but I do hate to see a boy treated like that," Mrs. Lovett said, earning a nod of agreement from me and a brief, uncaring glance from Mr. Todd.

A well dressed man came up congratulating Mr. Todd and inquiring if he had an establishment.

"He certainly does," Mrs. Lovett answered for the impassive man, "Sweeney Todd's Tonsorial Parlor, above my Meat Pie Emporium on Fleet Street." I rolled my eyes at the name, of course she would pick something like that.

Mr. Todd, uncaring in the conversation, moved on towards someone else. I recognized the Beadle's form and greasy hair and quickly made my exit in the other direction. I stopped by at the dress shop and picked up my three new dresses, an not wanting to start back right away, I went to the other side of the street to a bookstore. After spending some time looking through the books, I exited the shop, happy with my purchase.

Reading had always been my way to ignore the world as my parents kept me locked away in my rooms, only letting me out to show me around at social events. My parents had very precise tastes in what they wanted me reading though, limiting my literature to what they deemed appropriate. I was now able to read what I wanted, and the works of Edgar Allen Poe clutched in my hand made me smile as I walked back to Mrs. Lovett's, the place I now called home.

* * *

Okay, well I'm hoping to get off the beaten path and add something in to explainn her predicament to Sweeneyyy very very soon!

I've already written alot of this, and I just have to get it upp, but it's taking some time since I have prior commitments :). But I'll keep getting more up, as long as you comment me :). Your thoughts help me alot, so if you have ideas, just go on and say. :)


	5. Rambled Explinations

Yeah, there's been a bit of a wait, and I'm sorry. I'm also sorry that this is prolly gonna be a crappy chapter, but it has to be done I think.

* * *

I woke the next morning with the sun shining through my window. "Why does the sun suddenly decide to shine today?" I mumbled to myself, annoyed that I couldn't get back to sleep. In defeat, I stood from my bed and pulled out a new dress I bought the day before. This dress was blood red with black lace and I was happy to see it did not show too much cleavage after I had it on.

I made my way down the stairs and entered the shop to see Mrs. Lovett preparing breakfast items on a tray. She looked up as I came in and smiled. "Oh deary, don't you look just lovely in that new dress o' yours," she gushed. I smiled back, tanking her, before she handed me the tray she had set up. "Won't ya be a doll an' take this up te Mr. T, dear?"

"Of course," I agreed, stepping out of the shop and up the stairs once more. I couldn't really knock on the door, but I notice it wasn't latched shut, so I just pushed it open. Mr. Todd was standing at the large window, looking out onto the street below. He heard the door creak and turned. The man said nothing to me as I entered the room and sat his breakfast tray on the trunk in the corner. There was no other furniture in the room other than the broken full length mirror in the other corner.

"Mrs. Lovett made you some breakfast," I pointed out the obvious after the moment of silence.

There was more silence before he finally spoke. "What are you doing here?" he asked.

"Well I thought it was pretty obvious I'm here to give you your breakfast. If you are going to be so rude, then you can come down and get your own food. I don't need to be waiting on you hand and bloody foot," I snapped.

"No," Mr. Todd said in an exasperated voice. "What are you doing living here? Don't you have a family somewhere?"

The questions shocked me into silence. Why did he even care? I just stared at him for a moment before finally answering. "I don't have anywhere else to go."

"Family?" Mr. Todd questioned shortly.

"My 'family' tried to sell me off the Judge Turpine. They don't really care, I'm just a good investment. Here is the place they won't think about looking for me. Tupine agreed to marry me, but I left before any of that could happen. I am now Turpine's 'property' basically, that's why I'm here. I will not be his pretty arm candy, and I won't be committed to him." I finished my angry rambling and Mr. Todd was once again silent. I had most likely spoken too much about things he cared little for, and on top of that, didn't understand, for I realized I wasn't making much sense, only stringing words together in half explanation.

"So you most likely have Turpine and Beadle Bamford looking for you?" Mr. Todd asked suddenly.

I thought for a moment before answering. "Yes, I suppose. But it doesn't matter really, this is the last place anyone would look for me," I answered.

"They don't have to look for you," Mr. Todd said, suddenly seeming angry. "I am leading them here! The Beadle is to come for a shave this week. Didn't Mrs. Lovett tell you that?"

"Well, no she didn't," I answered. "I will not be up here for that anyway, now will I?" There was more silence, so I decided to take my leave. "I must go help Mrs. Lovett in the kitchen," I explained as I walked to the door. Once I was at the door I stopped and turned around. "You really should eat Mr. Todd, you don't need to be getting ill before you have the chance to give the Beadle and Judge their shaves..." I advised before leaving the strange brooding man to his thoughts.

Once back downstairs, I didn't have time to dwell on Mr. Todd's strange behavior or his obvious revenge plans, because Mrs. Lovett was asking me right away to go to the market and get some supplies. The strange conversation with Mr. Todd flitted from my mind as I took the list and money from Mrs. Lovett, agreeing to do what she needed, annoying as it was that she was shoving all this on me. I couldn't complain though, as I was, unfortunately, in her debt for giving me a safe haven.

The walk to the market was uneventful though pleasant. It was an uncommonly warm and sunny day, so many families and young couples were out for strolls. The market was crowded so it took a while to get everything Mrs. Lovett needed. As I payed the last market owner his money, I felt eyes on me. Trying not to openly stare around, I leisurely scanned the area. As a particularly giggly girl and her beau passed I saw the person staring behind them. The Beadle stared at me with his beady eyes, obviously trying to decide if I was who he thought I was. I didn't want to give him time to find out, so I turned quickly and began walking away. A lady behind me gave a angry screech, yelling at someone to watch where they were going, and I, being either paranoid or somehow randomly knowing it was the Beadle, sped up.

I ducked into a dark ally, and not moments after I did, the Beadle passed, walking as quickly as his stubby legs would move his fat body. I waited a moment to catch my breath before stepping back out into the throng of people, promptly being lost in the crowd.

* * *

Well, I know it's short and not up to standards, but it served it's purpose, I hope... heh. Please give me reviews, tell me what I'm doing wrong and right, so I can become a better writer. It really does help alot. lol.

Thank you for reading,

Pheonix


	6. Signor Pirelli's Demise

Sadly, I don't own anyone except Darcy, and since I'm not getting any money off of this, that doesn't mean much either, so don't sue, cuz I don't have any money as it is.

A 'I'm sorry for making you wait so long for that shitty chapter I posted before" chapter to all of you. Cheers darlings!

* * *

The bell on the shop door rang as I entered the building.

"Oh! Deary, would you give me a hand in here?" Mrs. Lovett called from the sitting room.

I dropped my things on the couch in the sitting room and looked to see the owner of the shop at the bottom of the stairs with her late husband's chair. I observed the situation and, in hopes of not killing myself, volunteered to be first up the stairs. It was a fairly hard task to drag the old chair up the stairs and into Mr. Todd's shop, made even harder with the fact that I was doing most of the work.

After the chair was situated in the room, facing away from the vanity mirror that had already been moved up to hold Mr. Todd's supplies, I plopped down onto the old trunk behind the shop door.

"Thanks for the help and everything," I said sarcastically to the pale man brooding by the large window as usual, an agitated look on his face as he sharpened one of his razors. The objects never seemed to leave his side anymore, and his mood was becoming even more fowl then before.

"It's not much of a chair, but it'll do," Mrs. Lovett stepped in from her place in the chair. "It was me poor Albert's chair. Sit in it all day long, he did, after his leg gave out with the gout."

"Why doesn't the Beadle come?" Mr. Todd asks, not paying attention to anything Mrs. Lovett or I was saying. "'Before the week is out,' that's what he said."

"It's only Tuesday," Mrs. Lovett tried to reason. Mr. Todd shot her one of those angry looks he saved for her when she spoke about... well when she opened her mouth in general.

He threw the sharpening block he had been using and stomped toward the broken mirror in the corner. Mrs. Lovett made a move to get up from the chair, but I had already made my way to the grumpy man, hoping to control the damage that Mrs. Lovett always seemed to bring about. "Easy no, hush, luv, hush. Don't distress yourself, what's your rush?" I sang, trying to calm the moody man. "Keep your thoughts, nice and lush. Wait. Hush, luv, hush, think it through, once it bubbles, then what's to do?" A smirk grew on Mr. Todd's face, his thoughts obviously on other things, as he let the light shine off his polished razor, catching my eye. "Watch it close," I sang on, "let it brew. Wait."

Mr. Todd brushed past me and Mrs. Lovett took her chance to try and capture his attention. "I've been thinking flowers, maybe daisies, to brighten up the room," she picked up my song. "Don't you think some flowers, pretty daisies, might relieve the gloom?"

The gloom has nothing to do with lack of flowers, I thought to myself sarcastically as Mr. Todd stomped around. Seeing that the man's attention still hadn't been drawn by Mrs. Lovett, I stepped in again, "Oh wait, luv, wait."

"And the judge? When'll I get to him?" Mr. Todd asked, brushing past me once more, his razor held up for him to look at as he opened the shop door to look outside.

"Oh can't you think of anything else?" I snapped, getting annoyed. I sighed deeply and went out to retrieve the vindictive man and bring him back inside. His shoulders were tense as I firmly took them and lead him in. "Slow, luv, slow," I began singing again, trying to get rid of my exasperation toward the man. "Times so fast. Now goes quickly. See, now is past." I led Mr. Todd to sit at the chair that had been brought up for him. "Soon will come, soon will last. Wait." I kneeled, looking up to the man's sulking, but oddly beautiful, face.

_No, not beautiful you silly girl. Stop thinking such idiotic thoughts,_ my mind reprimanded me. I ignored this and sang on. "Don't you know, silly man, half the fun is to plan the plan?" I smiled, though earning a glare for my 'silly man' comment. "All good things come to those who can wait." I had lost his interest again and instead of going on I stood and walked away. I left the room annoyed as Mrs. Lovett went on about her stupid flowers once more.

"What an agitating man," I grumbled to myself as I went downstairs.

Only a few minutes later Mrs. Lovett entered the shop again, using the side door this time, and with the boy from Pirelli's in tow. Mrs. Lovett went to get the boy a pie as I entered the shop.

"And what do we have here?" I smiled, throwing a questioning glance to Mrs. Lovett.

"Signor Pirelli's upstairs," Mrs. Lovett said to me as she passed with the boys pie. "here you are. Tuck in."

The boy eagerly took up the pie and took a large bite of it. He must have been quite desperate for food to be eating the appalling pie with such vigor.

"I like to see a man with a healthy appetite," Mrs. Lovett commented. "Reminds me of my dear Albert, it does. Liked to gorge himself to bloatation, he did. He didn't have your nice head of hair though."

"To tell you the truth, it gets awful hot," commented the boy before pulling the hair off to reveal it was a wig covering his mess of brunette spikes.

Mrs. Lovett and I exchanged glances before Mrs. Lovett's turned to the ceiling, glaring in disgust.

A clunk was heard from the floor above and Mrs. Lovett's eyes met mine once more, her look telling me to check on it.

"Oh, silly boys," I giggled, " I better go help Mr. Todd, see how everything is going." After I calmly closed the shop door I picked up my skirts and quickly ran up the steps to the shop above.

Upon opening the door I see Mr. Todd standing above a bloody Signor Pirelli, tea pot in hand.

"What in the hell have you done?" I asked, slightly scared of the crazy look in Todd's eyes, but not willing to show it.

Mr. Todd stood there for only a second more before the pot fell from his hands and he walked, slightly unsteadily, then fell into the chair in the middle of the room. He was breathing heavily and his eyes closed.

My mind was racing as I stared at the scene in front of me. On it's own accord my body moved, rushing to the large trunk I had perched on so many times, and opening it. I then rushed to the body bleeding on the floor and began to drag it to the trunk.

"Would you get off your ass and help me!" I yelled out the command.

Mr. Todd was startled out of his seemingly shocked state and it only took him a second to heave himself from the chair and grab Pirelli's feet. After the trunk was closed on Pirelli's body, Mr. Todd grabbed the tea pot from the floor as i grabbed a towel from his supplies to clean up the water and blood mingling on the wooden floor.

The boy rushed through the door, saying something about an appointment, and I sat quickly in the chair, sitting on the stained towel to hide it from view.

Mr. Todd, who was in the corner pouring water from the tea pot into a cup, spoke. "Signor Pirelli's been called away. Better run after him."

"No sir," the boy disagreed, backing up to sit on the trunk, "I should stay here, or it'll be a lashing. He's a great one for the lashings."

It was at this time that I noticed the twitching hand of Signor Pirelli sticking from the lid of the trunk. Trying to be cool, I stood softly and smiled at the boy, leisurely making my way towards him.

Mr. Todd seemed to have noticed too, for he became eager to rid of the boy. "So, Mrs. Lovett gave you a pie, did she?" He asked, a small tense, and not all pleasant smile coming to his lips.

"She's a real lady," the boy replied with a smile. "And so are you ma'am!" he added, looking to me as I seemingly calmly advanced toward him.

"Oh, such a sweet boy," I smiled, using a nice motherly tone. I finally got to the boy and laid my hands gently upon the boys shoulders, my skirts efficiently hiding the hand.

"That they are," Mr. Todd replied to the boy, his eyes shiftily moving to make sure the hand was hidden completely. "But," he went on, now even more keen on getting the boy out, "if I know a growing boy, there's always room for more pie, eh?"

"Yes sir," the boy answered.

"Why don't you wait for your master downstairs then, dear?" I suggested sweetly, leading him gently towards the door. "I'm sure she would be more than happy to give you another pie and enjoy your company"

"I really should stay here," the boy said looking to Mr. Todd.

It took a moment for one of us to think of another way to convince the boy, but Mr. Todd finally spoke up as he drew closer and I retreated back to hide the hand just in case.

"Tell you what, why don't you tell Mrs. Lovett that I said to give you a nice big tot of gin," Mr. Todd reasoned with the boy.

The young boys face lit up as he thanked Mr. Todd and quickly left.

Mr. Todd quickly shut the door and made sure the boy was gone before looking my way. I stepped aside, but felt a tug on my skirts. I suppressed the scream bubbling up my throat and instead tugged at my red skirt. After finally getting free of Pirelli's hand I ran across the room.

Mr. Todd strode over the the trunk and lifted the lid, peering inside. Nothing happened at first, but soon another hand came up and Signor Pirelli began to drag himself up. I saw the glint of silver and Mr. Todd pulled a razor from his belt and opened it. I watched in silent horror as Mr. Todd pulled Pirelli's head back, placed the razor to the phony peddlers neck, and slowly drug the silver blade across his exposed skin. Deep red, entrancing blood streamed from the slit as his jugular was cut open. As he bled out and his heart began to beat slower, the spurts of the mans life-line came farther in between. Pirelli finally bled out and Mr. Todd lowered his now most definitely dead body back into the trunk and closed the lid once more.

"I can't believe you killed him..." I whispered as Mr. Todd cleaned off his stained razor with a towel hanging at his waist. My first thought was how horrid it was, but then I thought about the deep beauty of the blood as it flowed from the 'Italian' mans pale throat. 

_No! _screeched that voice in my head that was always so quick to banish bad thoughts. _That is a stupid thought you stupid girl! This is a horrible situation and what just happened right in front of your eyes was not anything close to beautiful. Nothing about it!_

The Voice was so angry I flinched. My eyes set back on Todd, his face was set into a deep frown and he did not acknowledge me. I sat and stared at Mr. Todd, but he still did not speak. "Why?" I yelled, jumping from the chair and pushing the silent man to face me.

The door opened and Mrs. Lovett entered. "That lad is drinking me out of house and home. How long till Pirelli gets back?"

"He won't be back," Mr. Todd said, turning toward Mrs. Lovett and away from me, but still not looking up from polishing his razor.

Mrs. Lovett gasped as she saw the blood on Todd's shirtsleeve. "Mr. T, you didn't."

I nodded and inclined my head toward the hiding place of Signor Pirelli's body. Mrs. Lovett quickly closed the door and rushed to the trunk, lifting the lid slightly and peeking in. She gasped and let the lid snap shut before turning her attention sharply to Todd. "You're barking made," she accused, "killing a man wot done you no harm."

"He recognized me from the old days. Tried to blackmail me. Half me earnings," Todd finally explained.

"Oh, well, it's a different matter then," Mrs. Lovett sighed. "For a moment there I thought you'd lost your marbles." I looked on in disgust as she searched Pirelli's purse out and shoved it down the front of her dress. "Well, waste not, want not," she claimed. "So, what are we gonna do about the boy then?"

Todd stood observing his silver strait razor, and it took him a moment to reply. "Send him up."

"No!" I exclaimed, angered and appalled the man would even suggest such a thing. The Voice happily agreed with me for once.

"Send him up!" Todd commanded back, finally turning to me.

"Now Mr. T, surely one's good enough for today," Mrs. Lovett reasoned. "Besides I was thinking of hiring the lad to help me run the shop. My poor knees aren't what they used to be."

"All right," Todd finally agreed.

"Course, we're gonna have to stock up on the gin. Boy drinks like a sailor."

* * *

Well, here it is. Hope it's okay. Give me a review and tell me how I'm doing. It would greatly improve my writing.


	7. Epiphany

Sorry it's been such a long wait, school is getting crazyyyy.

Well, here's the next chapter. It's Epiphany =]

Only Darcie is mine.

Something out the window caught Mr. Todd's eye and he whispered, "the Judge," in an exited voice. He moved from the window and turned to us with a smirk. "Get out," he commanded. Mrs. Lovett and I stood still as the man looked around the room. "Get out!" he growled when he was neither of us had moved.

We moved towards the shop door quickly, but when I got there Mr. Todd was suddenly at my side, his hand warm on my arm. "Do you want him to see you?" he demanded through clenched teeth, roughly pulling me towards the door leading to the staircase. "I want you to go to your room and do not leave there until either Mrs. Lovett or I tell you," he commanded as he pushed me out the door and closed it firmly.

I did as told, though begrudgingly. As I sat on my bed I thought about what happened moments ago. It was wrong, of course, to have killed Pirelli. _So then why did I help? Why did I just stand there? And why was it so beautiful?_

**Beautiful??!** screamed the Voice, and I realized it screeched very much like my great aunt Rose did the time I came in from the garden with a grass stain on my new dress.

A door slamming brought me back from my thoughts. The next thing I heard was an angry scream from Todd, and then the door slamming once more.

Without even waiting to think about it, I exited the room and went across to open the door to Mr. Todd's shop. The man was standing in the middle of the room angrily staring toward the other door. Only moments later Mrs. Lovett came through the door. "All this shouting and running about," she said.

"What happened?" I inquired, making my way further into the room.

"I had him," Mr. Todd said to himself mostly.

"The sailor busted in, I know. And then I saw them both rushing down the stairs," Mrs. Lovett filled in what she knew.

"I had him!" Mr. Todd growled angrily, walking towards the large window. "His throat was bare beneath my hand," the man began to sing.

"There there, luv, calm down," Mrs. Lovett tried to calm the man now pacing like a caged animal.

"No! I had him! His throat was there and he'll never come again!"

I stepped forward, "easy now. Hush, luv, hush," I desperately tried to sooth the man who still had a razor in hand. "I keep telling you, what's your rush?"

"When?" Mr. Todd screamed, turning his attention toward me. I looked into his eyes and began to feel actually frightened of the man for the first time. He began advancing towards me. "Why did I wait? You told me to wait! Now he'll never come again!" For a moment I thought the man was going to hurt me in some way, but he suddenly turned away from me and went back to his window. "There's a hole in the world like a great black pit, and it's filled with people who are filled with shit, and the vermin of the world inhabit it. But not for long." A chilling sneer came to his fine features as he looked out upon the people in the streets and sang, "they all deserve to die. Tell you why, Miss Bedlowe, tell you why. Because in all of the whole human race, Miss Bedlowe, there are two kinds of men and only two: there's the one staying put in his proper place, and the one with his foot in the other one's face. Look at me Miss Bedlowe, look at you!" His angry gaze was once again on me and he came towards me, this time grabbing the back of my neck and roughly pushing me into the wall. For the instant his hand was on my bare skin, I could feel the coolness of his hands on my hot neck, and a shiver ran up my spine. "No we all deserve to die. Even you Mrs. Lovett, even I." He let go of me and moved to Mrs. Lovett, pulling her towards his barbers chair and shoving her in it. "Because the lives of the wicked should be made brief," the bright silver razor was suddenly at Mrs. Lovett's throat, "for the rest of us, death would be a relief. We all deserve to die."

Mr. Todd's face went sad again as he slowly took his blade from Mrs. Lovett's pale neck. "And I'll never see Johanna. No I'll never hold my girl to me. Finished!"

Suddenly Mr. Todd was not singing to Mrs. Lovett or I. His mind was somewhere else outside of the gloomy barbers shop and he strode around the room flinging is razor through the air. I observed the man as he went about the room. He truly was beautiful, his skin smooth and pale. He had fine features, a narrow jaw and a cute nose. His dark hair fell in shiny waves, not tamed, yet still managing to look wonderful.

I shook these thoughts from my head, reminding myself that Mr. Todd had just killed a man.

He had good reason, one part of my mind commented, and I could think of nothing to disagree.

Mr. Todd finally stopped singing and was kneeling, holding two of his silver razors to the ceiling.

"That's all very well," Mrs. Lovett interrupted Mr. Todd from his daydream, bringing him back to the dirty little barbershop room, "but what are we gonna do with him?" Our eyes went to the trunk containing Signor Pirelli's body, but no answer came from Mr. Todd. "Hello?" Mrs. Lovett prompted, "do you hear me?" Again no response, and Mrs. Lovett beckoned me over to help her get the moping man off the ground and down into the pie shop.

There it is. Comment it! I would like some feedback on how I'm doing please!!

~Phoenix.


	8. Great Ideas

Another Chappy.

I don't own any of the Sweeney Todd characters, or plot.

I do own Darcie.

* * *

We really did have to do half the work, and Mrs. Lovett left me to drag the man to a chair as she retrieved some gin. I sat across from Mr. Todd who still seemed to be in his own world.

"There, drink it," Mrs. Lovett commanded, setting a cup of gin in front of him. "Now, we got a body moldering away upstairs. What do you intend for us to do about that?"

"Later on, when it's dark, we'll take it to some secret place and bury it," Mr. Todd finally spoke, his voice deep and gravely.

"Oh yeah. Course we could do that," Mrs. Lovett stated, standing from her seat and going to the window. "Don't suppose he's got anyone who's gonna come looking for him." Suddenly she got a thoughtful look upon her face and I could practically see the gears turning in her head.

"Seems a downright shame," she began singing.

"Shame?" Mr. Todd questioned with a questioning frown on his face.

"Seems an awful waste," Mrs. Lovett went on, turning her attention to the counter where she made her pies. "Such a nice plump frame what's his name has. Had... Has. Nor it can't be traced."

"Oh," I let out a small gasp, understanding already where this conversation was going. The appalling idea strangely fascinated me. I stood from my spot and went to stand beside Mrs. Lovett. "Seems an awful waste," I picked up on the song, "I mean, with the price of meat what it is when you get it. If you get it.."

"Ahh," Mr. Todd finally caught on. I looked to him and saw a smirk on his lovely face. [I really need to stop thinking of him as lovely] But I had no time to dwell on tis, for Mrs. Lovett began singing again.

"Good you got it. Take for instance Mrs. Mooney and her pie shop. Business never better using only pussycats and toast. Now a pussy's good for maybe six or seven at the most. And I'm sure they can't compare as far as taste. " Mrs. Lovett was pacing as she sang, thinking over the things in her mind.

"Mrs. Lovett, what a charming notion. Eminently practical, and yet appropriate as always," Mr. Todd sang, striding toward the planning woman. "Mrs. Lovett, how I've lived without you all these years I'll never know! How delectable! How undetectable!" The two were now dancing around the shop.

"Think about it! Lot's of other gentlemen'll soon be coming for a shave. Won't they? Think of all them pies!"

The two made their way to the window and flung the curtain back to observe the people passing by and I sauntered over to join them as Mr. Todd began singing again.

"For what's the sound of the world out there?" he questioned.

"What, Mr. Todd, what Mr. Todd, what is that sound?" Mrs. Lovett replied.

"The sound of crunching noises pervading the air!"

I cut in, "yes, Mr. Todd, yes Mr. Todd, yes all around."

"It's man devouring man my dears."

"And who are we to deny it in here?" we all three sang out.

Mrs. Lovett left the window, leaving Mr. Todd and I at the window. "These are desperate dimes my darling dears," I commented in a sweet voice, turning from the window with a smirk.

"And desperate measures are called for," Mr. Todd finished, taking my arm in his and leading me toward Mrs. Lovett at her stove.

"here we are, out of the oven," Mrs. Lovett said, placing a pie on the counter.

Mr. Todd observed the pie with a look of disgust, "what is that?" he asked.

Mrs. Lovett glanced out of the window, "it's priest. Have a little priest."

We all turned our attention to the church outside.

"Is it really good?"Mr. Todd questioned.

"Sir, it's too good at least! Then again, they don't commit sins of the flesh, so it's pretty fresh."

"Awful lot of fat," I observed.

"Only where it sat," Mrs. Lovett countered.

"Haven't you got poet, or something like that?"

"no, you see, the trouble with poet is how do you know it's deceased? Try the priest."

We walked to another window and looked at our choices there.

"Lawyer's rather nice," Mrs. Lovett commented.

"If it's for a price," Mr. Todd said.

"order something else, though, to follow since no one should swallow it twice."

"Anything that's lean?" inquired Mr. Todd.

"Well if you're British and loyal you might enjoy royal marine. Anyway it's clean. Though of course it tastes of wherever it's been!"

"Is that squire, on the fire?" I pointed out.

"Mercy no, ma'am, look closer, you'll notice it's grocer," Mrs. Lovett corrected.

"Looks thicker, more vicor," I nodded to another man.

"No, it has to be grocer, it's green!"

mr. Todd turned from the window, leading Mrs. Lovett and I with a warm hand on our necks. "The history of the world my love," Mr. todd sang to me, "is those below serving those up above."

Mrs. Lovett, getting annoyed at her lack of attention, began, "save a lot of graves, do a lot of relatives favors! Everyone shaves, there should be plenty of flavors!"

Mr. Todd went on, "how gratifying for once to know-"

"That those up above will serve those down below," we all finished Mr. Todd's thought.

Another curtain was flung aside.

"What is that?" Mr. Todd asked in a voice of revulsion.

"It's fop," I answered, spotting the man dressed outrageously in furs, "finest in the shop. And we have some shepherd's pie peppered with actual shepherd on top."

Mrs. Lovett picked up an unbaked pie and handed it off to Mr. Todd. Here's the politician, so oily it's served with a doily. Have one!"

"Put it on a bun," Mr. Todd said, regarding the dripping substance with a cutely scrunched up nose. "Well you never know if it's gong to run!"

"Try the friar. Fried it's drier."

"No the clergy is really too coarse and too mealy."

"Then actor, that's compactor," I selected a smaller pie, setting it in front of my companions.

"Yes and always arrives overdone!" Mr. todd replied. He advanced on me, the butcher knife finding its way to my neck as I backed against the wall. The knife made contact with my neck, smooth and cold, causing electric jolts to jump down my spine, and Iooked up into Mr. Todd's amused eyes as he spoke, "I'll come again when you have judge on the menu."

Mr. Todd swept me into a dance, looking down at me with charming eyes. "Have charity to the world, my pet."

"Yes, yes, I know, my luv," I sang back with a smirk.

"We'll take the customers that we can get," Mr. Todd went on, a smile gracing his features, his eyes looking into mine.

"High-born and low, my luv."

"We'll not discriminate great from small. no, we'll serve anyone, meaning anyone."

Mr. Todd and I swept to the window, leaving Mrs. Lovett behind, and ended together, "And to anyone, at all!"

~~//~~

That night I laid awake in my bed. Though exhausted, sleep would not come. Late in the night noises could be heard from the room across the hall.

After nearly an hour and a half I finally stood from my bed, still wearing the dress I had been wearing the day before, and decided to see what all the banging in Mr. Todd's room was about. On my way out I spotted the leather jacket I had accidentally stolen in my haste to get away from the market, and I picked it up. I tip-toed across the hall and lightly knocked on the barbershop door. I received no answer, so I tentatively opened the door and stepped in. Mr. Todd was in the middle of the room, the chair that had been dragged up in pieces around him.

"Mr. Todd," I called out for his attention.

He looked up, seeming almost surprised to see me. The tool in his hand was set down, and he stood regarding me. "What do you want?"

"I was awake heard you banging around in here. What are you doing?" I asked, observing the tools and picked apart chair. "Why aren't you asleep?"

"Not tired," Mr. Todd answered one question shortly before turning away to continue working.

With a slightly annoyed sigh I walked across the room to the trunk Signor Pirelli's body was before he was dragged down to the oven room. I laid the jacked down then went to stand behind the man. He payed no attention to me, just kept working. Cranks and gears were going into the bottom of the chair. "What are you doing?" I asked again.

He was quiet again and I almost thought he wasn't going to answer again. Finally he spoke quietly, "I am rebuilding the chair so it tips back, down to the oven room."

I was quiet for a while as Mr. Todd worked. "you know, you must be very careful going about all of this. You mustn't draw attention."

Todd does not acknowledge what I said. "Hand me that wrench," he commands.

"Did you hear me Mr. Todd? You really do have to be careful no one suspects anything," I say again as I reach for the tool he pointed out.

"Just shut up and hand me the wrench," Todd demands, grabbing it from my hand forcefully.

"Stop being so horrid," I said, easily disregarding what he said, as he disregarded me. "Do you want the judge or not? Because if you do, you can't have the cops up our asses."

There was a silence, and I was about to leave when Todd pointed to another tool. With an annoyed sigh I took the tool and thrust it at him with a glare.

"Why are you okay with this?" Todd asked suddenly.

I thought about this, and could think of no answer. Finally my mouth opened and words began to flow out. "Judge Turpine needs to be stopped. He thinks he can have whomever he wants whenever, and he needs to realize that is not true."

"And you know about this from experience?"

How is it he always asks these questions when he decides to talk to me? Why can't we ever talk about the weather? I sighed, "my father used to send me off the the judge's parties. Turpine always has his favorites. The small fragile girl. He needs to feel like he's in control."

I didn't realize I was so angry until I almost took Todd's hand off with the wrench he requested.

"Are you really so angry because he takes advantage of those girls you barely know, or is it personal?" Todd asked, digging for answers.

In the back of my mind I wondered why the man was being so civil, but this was drowned out by memories. Green eyes filled with tears and blonde hair messed around a blotchy face. "He hurt a friend of mine..." I started. "Our fathers sent Kristina and I off to parties all the time. She went off for something to drink and some guy started talking ot me. He was quite charming, not someone you would usually fine there. He and I talked for a while, then I noticed Kristi was gone. I looked all over until it was time for me to leave. Then, late in the night my maid brings her to my room. She was weak, sobbing about how Turpine took advantate of her..." I faded out, not wanting to say more about it. "No innocent person should die, but Judge Turpine is not innocent. Turpine is a sick and greedy man, and the only way to stop him is to hill him. It is what he deserves, after all."

Todd looked at me, seeming to want to say something. Instead, he asked me for another tool.

The seat was put back on the chair, concealing all the gears. He stepped back, next to me, to observe his handiwork. "Step on the lever," he commanded softly.

I was curious to see what he had done, so I stepped up to the chair, where the pedal was. The pedal glinted silver in the moon and I gingerly set my foot on it. Finally I applied pressure. The floor directly behind the chair flew open as the chair itself tipped back. It was built flawlessly to dispose of bodies directly to the oven room.

"Brilliant," I muttered, turning to the dark eyed man.

Todd nodded, walking toward the window he always seemed to be looking out of. I went to stand next to him, looking out at the darkened street. I was intent on the outside world and didn't notice deep brown eyes on me until his whole body was turned to me. I turned to him questioningly. Without a word he brought his hand to my deep red hair. The locks were hanging loose over my shoulders and he ran his fingers through it, observing it thoughtfully. He pushed his hand through my hair to the back of my neck, then I felt him pulling me toward him. Things had suddenly gone very confusing as his lips touched mine, soft and simple. I was surprised at the chasteness of the kiss, it was the complete opposite of Sweeney. But this was wrong.

At the same time I was thinking that, Todd must have been thinking the same. He pulled back suddenly, his hand ripping from my hair and striking me across the cheek. My eyes snapped closed and my head swiveled to the right, my hand coming up to the stinging point on my face. I looked off to the right for a moment before finally looking to the man in front of me. He was glaring at me, which made me even more mad. None of this was my idea, he grabbed me! I knew I was glaring back at the man and started walking past him.

Todd grabbed my arm tightly, yanking me back to look him in the eye, his hand constricting my arm. "Don't ever do that again," he growled out.

"I didn't do anything!" I yelled, trying to pull my arm from his grip. With a push he finally let go of me, and his glare seemed to lessen. I didn't care though, I turned briskly on my heel and stomped out, slamming the door without looking back. "What a bipolar asshole," I muttered angrily to myself. I got to my bed and laid there for quite a while before finally falling asleep.

* * *

KK. Well, that's that. Leave me comments. I need constructive criticism. Please.


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